(06-11-2012 11:10 PM)ddrew Wrote: I'll drink to all this later .. gotta be off to work.. damn graveyards....

I think we should work with each other so as not to hurt each other. You're bigger, I'm stronger, It's a draw.

As it was in the beginning is now and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

You will stretch, scratch your nuts, get up to go take the morning poop. On the way to the john your eyes will casually pass by a clock. Maybe digital, maybe not. Either way the time on the clock will read 6:66 and it will hold your gaze.

Wait, you will tell yourself, that time doesn't exist. So you'll rub your eyes. Look again. It's 6:66. You'll check another time piece, whether it's a clock on the wall, your phone, or a watch on your wrist. The time will still read 6:66 and it won't budge.

Thinking yourself insane, you hope to reassure yourself of your sanity by turning on the television to see that this is a world wide event. So click goes the remote, and the television springs to life. On the tv you will see a flashing 6:66 and hear the screams of virgins dying. You're mad, you must be. Panic overcomes you and you fall to your knees, hands in your face muffling your sobs and occasional insane screams.

Suddenly you hear "Romney wins, Romney wins" blaring out of a loudspeaker somewhere outside. You jump to your feet, and run to the window. Before you know you've done it the curtains are flung open and you see a huge skin covered van with romneys face painted on the side in blood. Behind the van is a procession of soldiers, all carrying military issue machine guns, only they appear to be wearing magic underwear instead of army uniforms.

After the van blares out a few more Romney wins messages, it tells the citizens to step out of their houses and reveal their underwear immediately or risk being executed. You watch as some actually do so. None are wearing magic underpants, and they are promptly shit dead. The message continues, only no one else steps out. Well there is one guy, and he's wearing the underwear. A soldier approaches him and hands him an automatic weapon. He joins the line up.

Other soldiers start shooting fire at all the other houses. The ones without flame throwers use some sort of molotov cocktail. You fall to your knees again, crying once more, while you hear screams all around you and feel the fire getting closer.

Ok, I swear I'm not making this up...

I'm in a hotel room in KL. Last night they were showing The Omen (remake) and now they are showing I Am Number Four (I've not seen it before but isn't it about alien gods in magic underwear?).

If you want to know an external reaction...

At lunchtime (my lunchtime was around 5 hours ago) I gave the class (Malaysians) an update that CNN were predicting a narrow Obama win.
Reaction: "Thank fuck for that."

That's a new trick. I wonder if we can teach that to the marines? I can see it now, the new Marines recruiting campaign, now they want big fat guys, you know, like those huge guys outside the Green Bay Packers games grilling sausages from their tailgates on football Sundays. You know the guys I mean; they're bigger than any of the players on the team. Slap those guys in some big-n-tall BDUs with a little butt flap (like longjohn underwear), feed them an endless stream of sausage, chili fries, sloppy joes, pizza, tacos, bratwurst, and Kaopectate, and turn them lose on the Taliban.

It would sure save on ammo...

Probably against the Geneva Convention.

"Whores perform the same function as priests, but far more thoroughly." - Robert A. Heinlein